Remember Me?
by DeathByStereo17
Summary: He looked at me quizzically, his head tilted slightly to the left as he contemplated. Then, when I was about to lose hope, his face suddenly brightened and he uttered one word. “Phantom!”


_I know its been a while since i updated with something, and i'm sorry about that. School is my main proiority right now, and will be until Christmas time. Hopefully then i'll be able to update. until then, i leave you with this, although i'm not sure whether you'll like it or not. Let me know, will ya? _

_oh, and p.s., if anyone can come up with a better title, i'm up for sugestions!_

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The halls were stale with color, filled with bones so brittle they would break the slightest touch. I hated coming here, more than I hated chasing the Box Ghost around in the middle of a Sunday night. But I wasn't here for myself, no, I was here for my family. They needed me, we needed each other, and so I was here for them, as they were there for me.

I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself down, but instead I just wrinkled my nose. Even the smell bothered me. It was a smell almost like death, but cleaner. It didn't smell like a hospital, thankfully. This scent was homier, but that didn't make me like it anymore. Even the light added to my nervousness. They made the place look even more washed out. The yellow, white light was everywhere, and no matter where you went it always followed you with its soft yet stern gaze. As we walked down the white tiled halls, I tried not to look up at the people we passes. It was painful, although I always tried to smile if I ever made eye contact with one of them. It was rare that I would get a smile back, though. Finally, we reached his room. Sam and Jazz went in first, followed by Sage, Zale and Vincent. I, on the other hand, hesitated. This was the worst part for me, seeing him like this.

It was as though every time I walked into the room, a little more of him has disappeared.

"Danny?" My wife came and took my hand in hers, her beautiful eyes filled with worry and understanding. "Are you okay?"

I tried to smile at her, tried to reassure her, but I couldn't. She knew how hard this was for me, how hard it was for all of us, and she tried to be there for us the best she could. She was wonderful, and I couldn't thank her enough.

"Yeah," I whispered quietly. She smiled sadly at me, and then led me into the room. It was filled will little gadgets he had created, all of them completely safe, so if by some miracle he actually started toying with them he wouldn't be able to harm himself or anyone around him. There were also several pictures on the shelves and walls. The one I like the most is sitting on his bedside table, where he could always see it. It was of me, Sam, Jazz and the kids. The kids were younger in the picture, young enough to cause the kind of mischief that brought a smile to your face. We had gone to my parents house for supper, the whole family, and the kids discovered some extra pillows in one of the upstairs hall closets and, catching us totally be surprise, decided to bombard us with those pillows. The 'adults', meaning Jazz, Sam, Tucker and I had politely returned the favor by sending the ammo back. We even used some of the couch cushions. By the time the fight was over, the living room was covered in feathers. Of course, dad thought this was hilarious and, during the commotion had managed to get a picture of it all. Mom thought it was pretty funny too, but we had to buy her new pillows. We had given him this specific picture in hopes it would help his memory, and perhaps it did for a while. But the disease continued to take its hold, and now we were lucky if he remembered any of us. The man I had once, literally, looked up to was now sitting in a chair, unable to do anything for himself. He just sat there, day after day, withering away like a flower in the middle of a drought. It was heartbreaking.

I think Mom is taking it the hardest, though. She was here, day after day, staying true to the term 'till death do us part.' Unfortunately this was taking its toll on her as well. She had lost that gleam in her eyes, the one that always thirsted for knowledge of the unknown. She still invented, but not like she used to. Not like when he was by her side. I gave her a small smile, and she returned it, but only halfheartedly. She was holding his hand, giving it a slight squeeze every once in a while to remind him that she was there.

Jazz went up to him first, kneeling down slightly to get to his eye level. "Hey Dad, remember me?"

He stared at her, forehead creased as if he were trying to remember, but he only looked to the woman sitting next to him, questions swimming in his eyes.

"You remember Jazz, dear. Our daughter," Maddie said hopefully.

He looked back to Jazz, questions still apparent in his eyes. "Jazz?" he whispered.

Tears formed in Jazz's eyes. "That's right Dad. Do you remember Vincent, your grandson?" She beckoned her son to come over to her.

"Hey Gramps," he gave a slight wave and a smile as he said that, hoping to get a familiar smile out of his grandfather. No avail, not that he thought he would get a response, but he couldn't help but grin when Jack said, "Vince?"

"Yeah, Gramps," Dad had been calling him that since the day he was born. We all smiled when we heard him use the nickname. Next, Sage stepped up and kneeled down to him. "Hey Grandpa, I'm Sage," hope was clear in her voice as he looked at her, his hand coming up to stroke her long, white hair.

"Sage," he said. This time, I almost swore I could hear a bit of confidence in his voice. Sage smiled at him, the same grin he always wore when he got excited about a new invention…or fudge.

"Zale?" he looked straight at my son. This surprised all of us, especially Zale. He stepped up beside his sister and said, "Yeah Gramps, I'm right here."

Jack looked contently at him, and then his eyes found my wife. "Pam?"

"Sam, Jack. I'm Sam," she walked up between her two children and smiled encouragingly. "You were close, though." This seemed to disappoint him, and he looked around the room again.

That's when his eyes found me.

I sighed and stepped up to him. Sam, Sage and Zale had backed up slightly to give me room as I kneeled down beside him. I looked into his eyes, hoping to find some form of recognition. As usual, there was none.

"Hey Dad, you know who I am?"

He looked at me quizzically, his head tilted slightly to the left as he contemplated. Then, when I was about to lose hope, his face suddenly brightened and he uttered one word.

"Phantom!"

Everyone in the room froze, shocked at what had come out of my father's mouth. Right after Sage was born; I decided to tell my parents about Danny Phantom. It had taken them a while, but they finally grasped the fact that I was the one specter that they had never been able to catch, and for some reason that made them even prouder. Of course, I had to apologize several times before they fully forgave me for lying to them all those years, but they eventually understood why. That had been seventeen years ago. The fact that he had been able to recall my secret identity _while_ I was in my human form was incredible.

My eyes widened as I struggled to find the right words. "I…I…" I sighed, defeated, and then smiled at my father. "Yeah, Dad, Phantom. Danny Phantom."

"Danny Phantom," he repeated slowly, and then a grin spread across his face, the kind of grin we were convinced we would never see again. And maybe we never would after that, but there, in that moment, it was enough for us.


End file.
